Maddening Logic
by Patria
Summary: Leper gets an unexpected visitor while in basic training. Meant to alleviate to impending madness, the visitor only makes things worse. ASPLesMis crossover. No real knowledge of LM needed.


Disclaimer: John Knowles owns A Sperate Peace, Victor Hugo wrote Les Misérables.

Leper was tossing and turning. This was not unusual for him in the creaky army cot. He swore he could feel every bare piece of metal pressing at his skin, waiting to pierce the flesh and gnaw at the bone. He turned again, only to be met with the gut wrenching coughs of the man beside him. Leper Lepellier pulled his pillow out from beneath his head, intending to block out the noise of impending death surrounding him.

In his frenzy to find quiet, Leper misjudged his movements; his head fell from the pillow and onto the metal bar of what one may call a foreboding sort of headboard. That night, Leper would find an involuntary slumber.

_**"Elwin"**_

_Leper sat up quickly, vaguely unaware of his settings. He was in his barracks, but it was empty. Who was that calling his name?_

_**"Elwin"**_

_Again the voice came, yet there was nothing more, leaving Leper to sit and reflect upon his name. Elwin was not a bad name, or so he thought now. When he had first come to Devon he had envied Gene for having such a smart, reliable name, and Phineas for having such a powerful one. It was funny, he thought, that Phineas should mean oracle. Finny never seemed the type to prophecies. _

_**"Elwin!"**_

_The voice that had been soothing suddenly jerked Leper from his mindful stance. Standing in front of him was a man dressed in a gold waistcoat and brown trousers. His black boots looked freshly polished, making for a sharp contrast to the white poet sleeves that billowed lazily around his arms. The man gave Leper a peculiar look, as if he were searching for something indefinite in the face of his only companion. Leper stared in return, noting a pair of delicate looking spectacles perched atop the stranger's nose. He imagined them falling to the floor and shattering into a million pieces. _

_"Don't." The man spoke again. "That will not help you."_

_"What?" _

_The man sighed. "I'm Etienne Combeferre."_

_Leper's eyes were wide. "Who?"_

_Combeferre waved his hand in dismissal. "I should not assume you know."_

_"Know what?"_

_Combeferre sighed again and disappeared through the door or the barracks, reappearing seconds later holding a leather folder. _

_"What's that?" Leper had no real trace of interest on his face; he seemed aloof and slightly threatened._

_"Look." Combeferre handed the folder to Leper, who dropped it clumsily, causing the contents to flutter to the ground. Leper stumbled out of bedand plucked the papers from their newfound resting grounds. He did not notice Combeferre watching him intently as he scanned the pages and their contents. _

_"They're...moths?" Leper rested his eyes on a sketch marked distinctly with two sets eyes on is wings._

_"Antheraea polyphemus. That one is a Polyphemus moth. Indigenous to North America." Combeferre showed hint of a grin as his eyes gained a spark to them._

_"Why are you showing me this?"_

_"I suppose you could say I'm a naturalist, too."_

_"Why are you showing me?"_

_"Why can't you remember me?"_

_"Why should I remember you?"_

_"Think." Combeferre gathered the papers from Leper's limp hands and arranged them neatly in the folder. "I am the philosophical one."_

_"Enjolras was the chief, Combeferre was the guide, Courfeyrac was the centre..." Leper muttered._

_"You remembered." Combeferre's grin widened ever so slightly._

_"You're just a fictional character!" Leper protested._

_"You don't know. You could be, too." Combeferre's grin had now become a mere trace of happiness on his face. "My fiction seemed real to me when I lived it."_

_Leper seemed to have zoned out of this reality. "Revolution, but civilization." He muttered. These mutterings began sounding slightly more crazed as the conversation continued, reminding Combeferre why he had come._

_"You must be ready for the revolution, Elwin."_

_Leper made a gesture around him, signifying their surroundings. "I am preparing! I'm evolving the way I should be."_

_"If that were so, my glasses would be nothing more than shattered glass at present."_

_"What's your point?" Leper's voice had become edgy and bitter._

_"You fell into war too quickly, Elwin. Think about what may happen when your insurrection begins."_

_"My insurrection?" Leper scoffed. "I'm fighting for my country, not against it." His forehead crinkled in an angry realization. "You never fought to begin with!"_

_Combeferre nodded gravely. "I fought. I fought for the lives of my peers. I fought to save them while they fought to save La Patrie"_

_Leper turned his head. "You provided necessary medical care."_

_"I had to amputate of my comrade's extremities. I had to bandage grapeshot wounds. I had to bandage bullet holes."_

_Leper cringed, but did not look back at Combeferre. "I won't be dealing with body parts. Its different..."_

Leper awoke to a violent hacking cough. A lung was not an extremity, but it was equally grotesque. Would he have to amputate this man's lungs should they fly in a bloody heave from his mouth?


End file.
